Keen humor and acute annoyance contended now in the eloquent face of Harriet.
"Pray, why shouldn't she canvass for Sir Dugald Maclean"—the level voice was pitched in a very quiet key—"if she really believes in his principles?"
"How can she believe in 'em, gal?"
"Why not?"
"How can a blue blood believe in that sort of a feller?"
"Sir Dugald is a remarkably clever man. One of the cleverest men in England, some people think."
"That's nothing to do with the matter. It's character that counts."
"There's nothing against his character, I believe. At any rate, Lady Muriel is going to marry him."
The state of Joe's feelings forbade an immediate reply. And when reply he did, it was in a tone of scorn. Said he: "[*double spaced quote?]'Government of the people, by the people, for the people!' Harriet, for a dead beat fool give me a blue blood aristocrat."
"Joe," came the answer, with a gleam of humor and malice, "I really think you should learn to speak of our governing class a little more respectfully."
This was rather hard. She ought to have realized that it was because Joe respected them so much that he now desired to chasten them.
"Scotchie of all people!" he muttered.
"There's no accounting for taste, you know." There was a sudden flash of a very handsome pair of eyes.
"O' course there ain't," said Joe, sorrowfully malicious. "You may have forgot there was a time when Scotchie came a-courtin' you."
"Do you suppose I am ever likely to forget it!" said
